The Little Doctor
by Nyanora
Summary: (Based on the children's book The Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery) The Doctor has regenerated into a young boy. "Then if a child comes to you, if he laughs, if he has red hair, if he doesn't answer your questions, you'll know who he is. If this should happen be kind! Don't let me go on being sad: send word that he's come back..."
1. Chapter 1

**The Little Doctor**

(Adapted from the Little Prince by Antoine De Saint-Exupery)

(You should read the original when you get a chance it's a charming book.)

Chapter 1

A very long time ago, I was a child. I was very fascinated with nature, and spent a large amount of my time exploring my grandparents' back yard.

My grandfather was an avid National Geographic collector and I'd pour upon his shelves full of the yellow magazines for hours. I wrote stories of how I'd travel to these foreign lands and meet many historical figures. I had even made a ten-page book, chronicling my adventures…complete with color drawings.

I showed it to my mum, dad, and any grown-up I met actually. But, they'd only laugh saying things like, "If only he'd put that kind of effort into his studies…"

However, there was this one stranger I showed it to with a funny looking bow tie and high-water pants. He smiled genuinely at each of the ten pages and laughed every now and then.

When he finished he closed my paper book, looked me in the eye, and said, "That was the most imaginative book I've read in a long time. Would you mind if I kept it?"

I only shook my head no due to my complete shock and excitement. He patted me on the head and walked away. He seemed to carry a deep sadness in his gait. He was the only grown-up who ever seemed to understand.

Many years later I had forgotten about the kind grown-up as I had been discouraged from writing by everyone else. That is why, at the age of ten, I abandoned my career as a storybook writer.

I had to choose another career, and I learned to pilot airplanes. I have flown almost everywhere in the world. As a matter of fact, geography was actually useful. I could tell China from Arizona at first glance, which is very useful if you get lost at night.

So, at the ripe age of thirty, I have spent lots of time with grown-ups. I have seen them at close range…which hasn't much improved my opinion of them. Whenever I encountered a grown-up who reminded me of the bow-tie man from all those years ago, I would show him one of my other paper books. I wanted to see if he really understood. But he would always answer, "Your kid did that?" Then, I would have to answer that I didn't have a kid, and I would put myself on his level and talk about bridge and golf and politics and neckties. And the grown-up was glad to know such a reasonable person.

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First Chapter, hope you enjoy...

Thanks!

~Nyanora


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

So I lived all alone, without anyone I could really talk to, until I had to make a crash landing in the Sahara Desert two years ago. Something in my plane's engine had broken, and since I had neither a mechanic nor passengers in the plane with me, I was preparing to undertake the difficult repair job myself. For me it was a matter of life or death: I had only enough drinking water for eight days.

The first night, I went to sleep on the sand a thousand miles from any inhabited country. I was more isolated than a man clinging to an iceberg in the middle of the ocean. So you can imagine my surprise when I was awakened at daybreak by a funny little voice saying, "Please…tell me a story…about a Graske."

"What?"

"Tell me a story about a Graske…"

I leapt up as if I had been struck by lightning. I rubbed my eyes hard. I stared. And I saw an extraordinary little fellow staring back at me very seriously. He had a mess of flaming red hair and freckled skin. He wore a long red coat embroidered with gold, that seemed far too hot for the desert. His most astonishing feature was his intelligent blue eyes that seemed many lifetimes older than he.

So I stared wide-eyed at this apparition. Don't forget that I was a thousand miles from any inhabited territory. Yet this little fellow seemed to be neither lost nor dying of exhaustion, hunger, or thirst; nor did he seem scared to death. There was nothing in his appearance that suggested a child lost in the middle of the desert a thousand miles from any inhabited territory.

When I finally managed to speak, I asked him,"But…what are you doing here?"

And then he repeated, very slowly and very seriously, "Please…a story…"

In the face of an overpowering mystery and those piercing eyes, you don't dare disobey. Absurd as it seemed, a thousand miles from all inhabited regions and in danger of death, I took a pen and notepad out from my pocket. But then, I remembered that I had only written academic essays, summaries, and articles; absolutely nothing fiction. I told the little fellow (rather crossly) that I couldn't come up with a story.

He replied,"That doesn't matter. Tell me a story about a Graske."

Since I had no idea of what a Graske was supposed to be, I began to tell him my first ten-page story. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow answer:

"No! No! I've heard this one before. It's not about a Graske at all, and frankly a Graske would just ruin that perfectly good story. Now come on, tell me about a Graske…mischievous creatures…"

I stared at him wide-eyed, unsure of what to say. How could he possibly know what my ten-page story was about? He matched my stare with a look of expectance. He didn't seem to be lying, so I relented and began writing on my notepad.

_Once upon a time, there was a mischievous Graske who got into all sorts of trouble. He was a tall gangly creature with yellow eyes-_

He read over my shoulder, but cut me off at this point.

"No Graskes are short, stocky creatures with beady eyes. The mischievous part was good though."

I sighed and tried again to imagine a creature that didn't exist.

_He was a short, stocky creature with beady eyes. His head was strangely shaped, like a starfish, and he had blue skin._

My friend gave me a kind, indulgent smile after tapping me on the shoulder.

"Hold on. You're close, but you're actually describing a Groske now…cause it's blue…"

I tore the page out, crumpling it, and started over.

_In a land not so very far away, lived a mischievous creature called a Graske. I chanced upon the short, stocky creature during my travels. His plan was to seek the holy grail. However, I politely informed him that the treasure did not exist, not at least in my experience. So, he left me with his head drooping, back to his house where he lived in solitude for the rest of his days._

The little fellow frowned.

"How very lonely. There are already enough sad endings in the universe…How about a Graske who finds something even better than treasure."

So then, impatiently, since I was in a hurry to start work on my engine, I scrawled the shortest story I could possibly think of at the time.

_There was once an odd Graske who was not greedy or mischievous at all. All he wanted was to find a friend who appreciated his drawings. With no luck, he sat at his stall, day in and day out, waiting for someone to spare a glance at his drawings. On day, there was a strange man in a bow-tie who happened across the Graske's stall of drawings. He picked one up, studied it, and announced, "This is the most dynamic painting I've ever seen. Could I buy it?"_

_The Graske was so overcome with joy at the offer that he let the odd man take it for free. From that point on, the Graske had more business than he could keep up with. However, when his friend came to visit, he would always find time to draw something just for him, in gratitude. And that's how the Graske and the man became friends._

But I was amazed to see my young critic's face light up. "That's just the story I wanted! You know I used to wear a bow-tie!"

"Really?"

"Yes! I've also worn a fez, trainers, glasses, a leather jacket, celery, the Beatles' haircut, a multi-color coat, a cane, a Victorian costume, and a **very** long scarf. Now I wear this robe. What do you think?"

"Well," I answered truthfully, "seems a bit hot for the desert."

"Oh, it's not bad." He then had a distant look in his eyes. "It reminds me of home."

"As long as you're comfortable then…"

The fire-head child flashed a small smile in my direction, then looked back at the story I had written for him.

"I'd like to meet this Graske, after I find my ship…my name's the Doctor by the way."

And that's how I made the acquaintance of the Little Doctor.

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Thanks for reading!

~Nyanora ^_^


	3. Chapter 3

The Little Doctor

Chapter 3

It took me a long time to understand where he came from. The Little Doctor, who asked me so many questions, never seemed to hear the ones I asked him. It was things he said quite at random, bit by bit, explained everything. For instance, when he first caught sight of my airplane he asked:

"What kind of ship is that?"

"It's not a ship. It's an airplane. My airplane."

And I was proud to tell him I could fly. Then he exclaimed:

"What, you fell out the sky?"

"Yes," I said modestly.

"Oh! That's funny…And everyone used to complain about my driving…"

The Little Doctor broke into lovely peals of laughter, which annoyed me a good deal. I like my misfortunes to be taken seriously. Then he added, "I think I've met you before…What planet are you from?"

That was when I had the first clue to the mystery of his presence, and I questioned him sharply.

"Do you come from another planet?"

But he made no answer. He shook his head a little, still staring at my airplane.

"Oh, I must be going senile. Of course, it's an airplane…a normal human airplane…"

And he fell into a reverie that lasted a long while. Then taking my story out of his pocket, he plunged into contemplation of his treasure.

You can imagine how intrigued I was by this hint about "other planets." I tried to learn more:

"Where do you come from little fellow? Where is this 'ship' of yours? Where will you be taking that Graske?"

After a thoughtful silence he answered, "Graskes have a keen sense of direction. So, I'd never lose him."

"Of course. And we could hide a tracking device on him, just in case he decides to get into trouble," I joked.

The proposition seemed to shock the Little Doctor.

"Put a tracking device on my companion? What a funny idea!"

"But if you don't he'll wander off somewhere and get lost."

My friend burst out laughing again. "You have no idea…my ship could…"

"What's this? Don't tell me he'd get lost on your ship…"

The Little Doctor smiled nostalgically. Then he remarked quite seriously, "Some leave, some forget, and some get lost forever." And he added, perhaps a little sadly, "I've lost quite a few myself."

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Thank you so much for the kind reviews last chapter! I'm having lots of fun doing this adaption. Hopefully I don't let anyone down.

~Nyanora :3


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